Sacrifice
by PB7
Summary: Finally, an assignment I WANT to do! My English teacher told us that we had to write a "frame story," or a story about someone telling a story. She said it could be any genre, about anything we wanted. Naturally, I took the opportunity to write this futuristic fanfic about a noble sacrifice and a recollection worth a million laughs and twice as many tears. Hope you enjoy!


Skipper stood on top of the penguins' island in his habitat at the Central Park Zoo, holding a mug of fish coffee. He was old now, and had retired from his days defeating villains and standing against injustices. The sun had fallen from the sky, and rested one-quarter visible on the horizon as it cast a golden orange glow. He stared down at the ground where, fourteen years ago today, he and his men had carved a cross into their island, with "Rico, 1973-2024" carved under it. He remembered that day as if it were just yesterday, and it had haunted him ever since. The only way he could move on was to remember that his brother in arms had died honorably.

Corporal, who had once been his unit's Private, stood next to him. He had his own unit now, and found himself constantly coming to Skipper for advice. But today, his visit had nothing to do with business. It was a visit of recollection, to remember their fallen soldier. Neither of them said anything for the two hours they'd been standing there, the coffee having already chilled in the November breeze that danced with Skipper's graying feathers.

"You know, Private," Skipper said, finally breaking the silence. He'd never stopped calling him Private. Not because he wasn't proud of him, but because he couldn't let go of the innocent young soldier he'd been when he was his commanding officer. "Sometimes I stand here and wonder what I could've done differently."

"None of it was your fault, Skipper. Rico made his choice to save us. Not even you could've changed that," Corporal answered.

"I know. But I still can't help but wonder sometimes," Skipper replied.

Corporal looked sideways at him. "You know, in all these years, you've told me a lot about your adventures with Rico before you took me in, but you never told me how you met him."

For the past two hours, Skipper's expression hadn't changed once; it'd remained sad, mournful, and thoughtful, and it seemed as though it wouldn't change for the rest of the week at least. But now, life ignited in his eyes as the faintest smile began to form on his face, as if the memory wasn't just replaying in his mind, but he was actually there, _living_ it all over again.

"It was in '94. I was stationed in our base located near Fort Knox, long before I started leading my own unit. There was me and Kowalski, a few others that I've long forgotten the names of, and the most strict commanding officer you could ever meet. One day, Rico was assigned to our unit. I swear if you'd have met him then, you wouldn't recognize him," Skipper said with a laugh. "He was always so calm. Kowalski and I didn't talk to him personally that often because he seemed so different from us. Then one night about a week later, we all stayed up past lights out and we went out for some fun."

"You and fun? Are we talking about the same you, here?" Corporal laughed.

Skipper glanced at him with a smile and continued. "When we came back, we had to sneak back to our sleeping quarters very carefully. Getting caught would earn us a fifty mile hike with thirty pounds of weight on our backs. We decided to go in by twos at ten-minute intervals. Rico and I went last. We'd only just began our quest to sneak back to our barracks when _our_ CO caught us. I hadn't even planned a cover story when Rico started explaining everything. He told him that he'd snuck out—_alone_—and I'd come out to bring him back before he got in trouble. I wanted to negate everything he said, but I was speechless. Commander punished him by making him Latrine Queen for a week.

"I didn't get punished at all. We were escorted back to our barracks, where our unit was pretending to be asleep. When we were left to ourselves, I told everyone about Rico's taking up for me. They praised him for it for a while, but of course, the excitement of it eventually died out. But not for me. If it hadn't been for him, we both would've been in trouble, with no way to explain ourselves. Kowalski and I got to know him better after that, mainly because I helped Rico with Latrine Duty when the CO wasn't around. Kowalski stood at the door and kept watch for us. The last thing I needed was to explain why I willingly helped with Latrine Duty when I'd made it abundantly clear in the past that I would've rathered the hike anyday.

"A few years later, we were all assigned on our first mission together, and we quickly discovered that we worked better together than we ever did separately. As a result, we were rewarded with the freedom to go wherever we chose to maintain justice and keep an eye on our enemies. We heard Central Park was in the market for a penguin exhibit, so we took the opportunity to blend in to one of the biggest cities in the world. Rico had grown into a raging nutball, but we were always like brothers, all three of us. Then the keeper gave us a tiny four-year-old penguin.

"Parenting? We had no idea what to do. We'd anticipated the possibility of a new penguin being transferred to our habitat, but we'd never thought about it being a small, innocent child. Rico was the first to have a fit over you. Ironically, he was the one to make you feel a little more comfortable about the new environment. He was the one that kept you busy while Kowalski and I decided how to handle the situation. We thought about having you transferred to another zoo, but another glance at Rico piggy-backing you around the HQ and we knew we could never let you go. It didn't take long before you were no longer the new kid, but our little recruit. I'm not sure when we started seeing you as our adoptive son. It happened without us realizing it. You grew up so fast."

Skipper looked at Private.

"He'd be proud of you, you know," he said with a smile. Corporal blinked back a tear. Skipper's smile faded. "I guess he never did stop sacrificing for us, did he?"

Corporal didn't answer. Skipper looked down at the engraving again. Corporal glanced at the hatch.

"What did you say Kowalski was doing, again?" he asked, slightly annoyed that something was occupying his time on such a day as this.

Skipper sighed. "I don't know. He says it's important, and that he has to have it done today."

They stood in silence until the sun had just disappeared over the horizon and the light in the sky drained toward it like water washing out of a sink. The air dropped about ten degrees cooler now that the sun had vanished and taken its warmth along with it. The night was relatively quiet, if you ignored the wailing sirens and honking cars stuck in traffic in the distance. Then the sound of metal against stone woke them from their thoughts as Kowalski slid the fishbowl away from the hatch and climbed up, carrying a bundle of long tubes bound together and arranged in a four-by-four square.

"Nice of you to join the party," Corporal chided. Kowalski disregarded it.

"I'm sorry I took so long," he said. Corporal and Skipper could tell he'd worked long and hard on whatever it was he'd completed; the graying feathers on his forehead were crinkled with long-held concentration and his eyes were bloodshot with bags hanging underneath. "I got the inspiration for this last night. I had to finish it. I think you'll forgive my tardiness when you see it."

He set the tubes down vertically, which revealed a string coming out of each tube, all tied together at the top. Kowalski struck a match and lit the ends, and the sparks separated as the traveled down the strings that went down into the tubes. Kowalski stepped back and pushed Skipper and Corporal back a few steps as the tubes erupted simultaneously, sending red flaming sparks into the sky that exploded and grouped together to form Rico's face, from his mohawk, to the scar on his left cheek, to his million dollar smile. The humans would definitely wonder where such a sight came from, but the penguins were happy to let them wonder for however long they pleased. Skipper, Kowalski, and Corporal watched in silence as the same thought passed through their minds synchronously.

As they forced the tears to the back of their throats, each of them brought their right flippers to their foreheads and saluted the bravest penguin they'd ever known as he gradually began to fade from the sky, but never from their hearts.


End file.
